Setup
by Louise Hargadon
Summary: **RE-POST** Set during Season 1. Danny's past in New Jersey finally catches up with him, putting Grace and Rachel in grave danger and resulting in a race against time to finally solve a 10-year-old murder case. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

_**A/N: ** I originally wrote and published this back in mid-2011, but left for a little while and took all my stories down. I'm putting this one back up because a) I really enjoyed writing it and was rather pleased with how it turned out, and b) I didn't have it saved anywhere useful. Also, Sky TV have very kindly put all three series of Hawaii Five-O in their On Demand section so I can finally catch up with all I've missed (their scheduling is notoriously wacky and I ended up missing too much of Season Two to catch up properly). So anyway, I'm slinging it back up, give or take a couple of very minor tweaks here and there, so at least I can find it again when I need it. I might even write another one eventually, who knows. Let's see how this goes first, anyway. If you read it the first time, I hope you enjoy it the second time, and if this is your first time reading it, then hello and thanks for reading!_

_**Disclaimer:** Hawaii Five-O is the brainchild of **Leonard Freeman**. I own the OCs and that's pretty much it. If I had any proper control over Hawaii Five-O then I'd've made sure Danny and Rachel got together and stayed together. The End._

**Setup**

**Prologue**

_Beep…beep…beep…beep…_

Detective Danny Williams rubbed his hands over his face and let out a sleepy groan. Five o'clock in the morning never got any easier.

His eyes still shut in protest, he slid his right arm out from beneath the bedclothes and felt for his alarm clock, which he quickly found and set to 'snooze'. He yawned as he rolled over and waited for sleep to overtake him again, which wouldn't have taken much effort. Indeed, it would have taken no effort at all, were it not for the fact he rolled face-first into someone's back. His eyes opened in surprise.

"What the-" he began, now completely awake. He pulled away and was surprised to discover the naked back of a woman. She had long, naturally wavy, dark hair down to her shoulder blades. He had no recollection of inviting anyone into his bed in… he frowned at the realisation of exactly _how_ long it had been. He certainly had no recollection of getting on that well with anyone the previous night.

Danny lifted up his bedclothes and looked down. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved to note that he was still wearing his pyjamas, which hadn't been disturbed by anything other than very heavy sleep during the night.

He suddenly felt rather awkward. He wasn't sure that he had ever had to begin a conversation with anyone with the words, "Excuse me, ma'am, but do you mind telling me exactly what you're doing, naked, in my bed?" Still, on reflection, it was a question he felt he had every right to ask.

"Uhm… Hello?" he began, not sure whether he should have adopted a loud whisper or half-shout, and embarrassingly ending up with a strangled squeak. He cleared his throat when he received no response from the sleeping woman, hoping that may rouse her from sleep, but nothing happened. "Excuse me, ma'am?" he said, raising his voice a little. Still nothing.

Danny shook his head. Someone had decided to take a nap in his bed without even asking his permission, and he was speaking to her like he was some kid in elementary school! "Hey!" he shouted, finally grabbing her shoulder and shaking her vigorously. She still didn't stir. Danny ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. He didn't have the patience to be messed around at five in the morning, pre-coffee.

"Listen, lady, it's real nice of you to drop in, but – _Jesus_!" he gasped, as he rolled her over. Her brown eyes were wide open, yet glazed over in death. His eyes glanced further down and he saw that her lips were tinged blue, so she must have been dead for some time. His gaze travelled down to her neck, where he saw significant bruising. She had been strangled.

Danny hadn't jumped out of bed so quickly since Christmas morning 1986 when he knew he was getting a skateboard. He paced his bedroom floor several times, running his hands over his face and then looking back to his bed, hoping this was just some terrible dream. It wasn't. He tried breathing deeply in an attempt to remain calm, but that didn't help either. He wasn't sure, but he felt that the natural reaction upon waking up to find a dead, naked body in one's bed would, in fact, be abject hysteria.

Finally, he picked his phone up, hoping his fingers would stop trembling – it was adrenaline, _not _fear, he told himself – just long enough for him to call his partner.

"Where the hell have you been for the last two days?" a grumpy voice began. Danny had obviously just woken him up.

"What the hell are you talking about, I saw you yesterday – you still owe me for the shave ice," Danny said.

"That was Tuesday, Danno," Steve said, impatiently.

"Or, as I like to call it - yesterday," Danny replied, squeezing his eyes shut with his thumb and forefinger. He hadn't called for a lecture on weekdays.

"It's Friday," Steve said. Danny sighed.

"Look. I know I've just woken you up, but I've got no time to argue with you about what day it is! You're not listening to me!" he shouted.

"Danny, do you know what time it is?"

"Look, Steve, we got an emergency here," he began. "There's a naked woman in my bed!"

"You called me at five in the morning just to tell me you got laid? Jesus, Daniel, what do you want, a round of applause?" Steve snapped.

"You don't understand, Steven. She's dead. She's been strangled," Danny said. Steve fell silent for a few moments.

"What happened?"

"I went to bed last night, fell asleep, woke up. Found a dead, naked woman in my bed. Never seen her before in my life," Danny said.

"You go missing for two days and you wake up one morning with a dead, naked Jane Doe in your bed?" Steve asked. Now it was Danny's turn to fall silent.

"Steve – I don't even remember anything past Tuesday," Danny told him, seriously.

"What are you saying?"

Danny paused, trying to think of all the ways he could phrase his next sentence without sounding like a complete drama queen. In the end, he realised there probably was no other way to phrase it.

"Someone's set me up, Steve," he answered, simply.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Danny looked on, his feelings running only to confusion and numbness, as his home was turned into a crime scene. His cellphone had been taken. His bedclothes had been bagged and tagged. Even his pyjamas had been taken as evidence. Jane Doe had long since been taken in a body bag to the Medical Examiner for an autopsy.

He sat heavily on his couch and buried his face in his hands. He had no idea what had happened. How had it got to Friday without him knowing about it? What the hell was going on?

"You okay?" Steve asked quietly, sitting next to him. Danny looked up at him and grinned.

"Never better," he answered, sarcastically. "My home's been turned into a crime scene. I woke up to find a dead Jane Doe in my bed. I watched the game on Tuesday night, drank a couple beers, went to bed – woke up, and suddenly I'm the only suspect in a murder that happened during two days of my life that have passed by entirely without my knowledge!" he ranted. "If I did this – I'm gonna lose my job, I'll lose my daughter and wind up in jail for something I know nothing about. Yeah, Steve, I'm… just peachy. Thanks for asking. You got any more pointless questions for me?" Steve raised his hands in surrender. Danny sighed and buried his face in his hands again. "I'm sorry," he finished, his voice muffled by his hands. Steve pursed his lips and let out a breath, then clamped his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"We're all over this, you know that, right? We're gonna find who's behind this and we're gonna clear you," he promised. Danny rubbed his hands over his face and then rested his chin on his clasped hands.

"Where are you gonna start? Huh? I have no alibi and no memory whatsoever of the last two days. They're gonna find my fingerprints and DNA on her body because she was in my bed, and I shook her to wake her up. All they've got is my word for it that I didn't do it. The evidence is pretty tight. If I were investigating this, I'd have pulled me in before I could blink," he pointed out. Steve paused and nodded slowly, considering Danny's response.

"But you're not investigating this. I am. And your word is enough for me. So I'm gonna stop wasting time helping you feel sorry for yourself and go find the bastard who did this," he answered, clapping Danny on the back briefly before leaving.

"Hey, Steve?" Danny called after him. Steve turned around.

"Yeah?" he asked. The right side of Danny's mouth twitched into a half-smile.

"Thanks."

Steve grinned at him and continued towards the front door. "Kono, you stay with Danny," he instructed. She nodded and took Steve's recently vacated space on the couch next to Danny.

"Kono, please don't ask me if I'm okay," he begged. She smiled at him and squeezed his arm gently.

"What do you take me for? Steve?" she joked. He chuckled gratefully. "You know I gotta take your statement, right? What do you want to do? You want to do it here or back at headquarters?" she asked.

Danny was absolutely sick to death of sighing every two minutes – but he couldn't help it. He was annoyed at himself as he realised he'd sighed just at the thought of sighing.

"I wanna get the hell outta here, Kono. I don't care where we go, just... I gotta stop looking at these people going through my stuff," he told her, looking her in the eyes. She nodded.

"You got it. Let's go," she agreed.

The car journey was silent, the atmosphere heavy – and Danny felt so detached that he barely remembered that Kono was with him, even though she was driving. He wished he could remember something. Anything. Anything had to be a help. How did it get to be Friday?

"No," she finally told him. He looked at her, baffled.

"No, what? What? Did I just say something without realising?" he asked. She grinned.

"No – I could tell by the look on your face you were seriously about to start wondering if you'd been kidnapped by aliens," she answered. He laughed.

"Hey, I'm just going through all the possibilities!" he protested. "Seriously. You're sure it's Friday?" he asked. She nodded.

"You need a tox screen," she said. "There's gotta be some reasonable explanation for this." He nodded.

"Good thinkin', Detective," he said. She grinned at him.

"You didn't do this," she told him. He let out a cry of consternation.

"Agh! Stop! Stop it right now! Right there, there is your mistake! You're telling me that I'm innocent! You don't know that! You've just got my word for it! You've lost objectivity, Kono – you were a good thinkin' Detective ten seconds ago, now you're in danger of becoming an emotional wreck! I could be a crazed, homicidal maniac for all you know!" he protested, gesticulating wildly. His face softened when he saw her surprised face. "But thanks," he finished with a small smile. She nodded.

"I'm not losing objectivity. Just so you know. What I have on you, Danny, is background knowledge. I'm using character analysis to calculate the likelihood that you may have murdered a woman in cold blood, put her in your bed, then fallen asleep and forgotten about it," she answered. He raised both eyebrows and looked skeptically at his friend.

"Yeah? What's your considered opinion?"

"You didn't do this," she repeated.

"When you put it like that, Kono – I think I believe you," he said. "So... what are you gonna do?"

"Like Steve said – find the bastard who did this," she answered, grimly. He chuckled.

"There are male cops in Jersey who would kill to be one-fifth as kick-ass as you, you know that?" he told her. She looked at him, bemused. "It's a compliment," he assured her. She shrugged.

"I'll take your word for it."

Meanwhile, Steve had made his way to the Pathology Lab after a call from the Medical Examiner.

"What you got for me, Max?" Steve asked as he strode into the room.

"I have nothing for you, I've been examining a dead body all day," Max replied, frowning in confusion. Steve closed his eyes and shook his head briefly.

"Did you find anything out about the dead body?" Steve asked, trying to control the overwhelming urge to shake Max by the shoulders and explain what 'figures of speech' were.

"Oh. Yes. She was strangled twenty hours ago," Max answered. "The time of death was difficult to calculate by body temperature as she had been under bedclothes in a warm apartment, and also Detective Williams' body heat would have been a contributing factor," he explained.

"Any signs of a struggle?" Steve asked. Max nodded.

"Yes, you can see by this," he answered, gingerly lifting up the Jane Doe's left hand and showing Steve the fingernails.

"What am I looking at?" Steve asked.

"There's skin under her fingernails – also bruising around her shoulders and arms, which would indicate a struggle. She sustained a cracked rib during the attack, too," Max explained.

"Skin? Does that mean-" Steve broke off as Max held a hand up to stop his question.

"Please! Commander! Do not ask me if I've sent the skin particles to Forensics! Of course I have! I've also sent blood samples for DNA testing and for toxicology reports," he interrupted.

"Has anything come back yet?" Steve asked. Honestly. Talking to Max was like pulling teeth, sometimes.

"Oh. Yes. The DNA results came back," Max answered. Steve was so close to slamming the palm of his hand into his face that he didn't know how he managed to resist the urge.

"Do we have a name?" Steve asked.

"Anna Stephenson," Max told him. "She was reported missing nine months ago from her home in North Bergen, New Jersey," he answered. Steve's eyes widened.

"New Jersey? You're... you're kidding me, right?" Steve asked. Max stared blankly at him.

"I fail to see where the joke is in the scenario I just gave you," he replied.

"New Jersey?" Steve repeated.

"I believe it's been part of the United States for some time now," Max added, helpfully. "There's a strong Mafia contingent, so I'm told."

Steve had now decided that as soon as he was out of the room, he was going to beat his head against a brick wall to relieve the stress of the conversation he was having.

"Thank you, Max. Let me know when you find out anything else," he finished, leaving the room before Max could say another word. "Jesus!" he muttered to himself as he stormed back to his office.

As he reached the department, he saw Danny sitting in Kono's office.

"What you doing in here?" he asked, popping his head round the door. Danny looked up at him.

"Just been to the Medical Room and given 'em my DNA – now I'm making my statement," he added. "What's with you? You look like you've just gone ten rounds with Einstein and lost," he told him. Steve nodded.

"Just come back from the ME's lab," he answered. Danny winced.

"Don't say another word," he advised, sympathetically. Steve shook his head.

"I won't – you're our only suspect, remember!" he told him with a grin as he headed back to his own office. As soon as he sat down, the phone rang.

"McGarrett," he began.

"Steve, this is Kono. Just heard back from the path lab. The skin under the victim's fingernails, we got a DNA match on it," she began.

"Yeah? Have we got a name?" Steve inquired. There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Kono? You there?" he asked.

"Yeah. Steve, you're not gonna like this," she said, hesitantly.

"I don't like it when a member of my team withholds evidence from me, Kono – now just tell me!" Steve insisted. Kono took a deep breath.

"It's Danny," she answered. Steve closed his eyes and let out a genuine groan of pain.

"Dammit," he growled.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Steve made his way back to Kono's office, his demeanour one of abject shock, and shut the door behind him. Danny looked up at him and let out a low whistle at his friend's grave expression.

"What? Steve, you're looking worse every time I see you. I don't know how that's even possible," he told him. As he turned away to concentrate on writing his statement, Steve noticed three red marks on the side of Danny's neck, just peeking out over his collar. They looked uncannily like scratch marks. He cleared his throat.

"Do you need to tell me anything?" Steve asked. Danny looked up at him and frowned.

"I wish I did. Why?"

"What's up with your neck?" he asked. Danny raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"I dunno, I've not got any pain or anything, which is nothing short of a miracle, due to the fact you're my partner," he answered, turning his head from side to side just to double check. He rubbed the back of his neck, more as a nervous habit than due to any discomfort, and frowned again when his fingertips slid over the scratch marks. "What is that?" he asked, gently tracing his fingers back and forth over the marks to try and work out what they were.

"You've got scratch marks on your neck," Steve told him. Both Danny's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"How'd that happen?" he wondered aloud, directing his question more to himself than to Steve, as he tried to remember walking into something, or falling over something – or something dropping on his head – and failing to come up with any possible solution.

Steve paused, then took a deep breath and looked right at Danny.

"The Jane Doe did it. They found your skin under her fingernails," he said. Danny stared at Steve as though he'd just been speaking in a completely different language.

"What?" he stammered. "Why… why would she do that? I don't understand."

"She had other injuries, wounds associated with a struggle. Max thinks that she did it in self-defence," Steve explained. Danny shook his head in disbelief.

"Why would she scratch the back of my neck? Why not my face?" he asked. Steve shook his head.

"That's where the scratch marks are, Danny," he answered, simply.

Danny leaned back heavily in his chair. He suddenly felt as though the whole room was spinning and closing in on him at the same time, and he had to take three or four deep breaths to calm down enough to speak.

"You've got to take me in for this," Danny finally said. Steve shook his head vehemently.

"No, Danno. No. We don't have to do this. Like you say, why would she scratch your neck? Why not your face? There's gotta be a reasonable explanation," he protested. Danny clamped his lips together, blinked once and locked Steve's gaze.

"Steven, I want you to listen to me, okay? I am your only suspect. My DNA is on the deceased's body. I have injuries sustained by the victim. I also have no memory of the preceding two days. I couldn't rely on myself as a witness, because I have no idea what happened. For all I know, I could very well have killed her and had some brain-freeze over it," Danny said. "It's not an impossible scenario. It can happen in cases where the perpetrator is going through extreme mental and emotional turmoil. You have to do this. Okay? It's the right thing to do. It's the thing you need to do. The evidence is there, and you need to take me in."

"Danny, no. You didn't do this," Steve told him, sternly. Danny shook his head.

"Not even I completely believe that I didn't do this, Steve. Okay? I mean… I don't remember. The evidence says I did it. Any cop would have taken me in over this," he answered.

"I'm not a cop," Steve reminded him. Danny rubbed his hands over his face yet again. He was amazed he still had skin there.

"No. You're not a cop. I'm a cop, Steve. Okay? I'm a good cop. And I'm telling you what a good cop should do in this particular circumstance. You may not be a Homicide Detective like I am, but you're working in Law Enforcement. You need to enforce the law. The law says that if the evidence points to a particular suspect – you need to take them in," Danny argued.

"I'm not having you make yourself a martyr, Danno, okay?"

"I'm not making myself a goddam martyr, Steve!" Danny shouted at him. "How do you expect me to look Grace in the eye after this is over, if I've been given special treatment because the Investigating Officer doesn't believe I did it? How can I expect her to have any faith in the American justice system? How can I expect her to respect me, or you, or anyone in Law Enforcement, if she thinks for one second that I got off with this because of who I am and not because I'm innocent?"

"I can't talk you out of it," Steve said. It wasn't a question. Danny shook his head.

"We shouldn't have needed to have this conversation in the first place," he answered, quietly.

"You want to call Grace?" Steve asked. Danny nodded and picked the phone up. Grace would be home from school now. Danny didn't know if he was more anxious about speaking to Grace or her mother. The Edwards' house phone rang out a few times before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Rachel? Uh… listen… something's come up. It's a big investigation and…" he trailed off. He felt completely unsure of how to say 'It looks like I've murdered a completely random woman for no logical reason, so if you want me for the next twenty to life, I'll be in jail,' without causing the mother of his child any undue anxiety.

"What? You've got to work away? You can't take Grace this weekend?" Rachel asked. Danny bit his lip.

"Something like that," he answered, his voice starting to crack with emotion.

"Daniel? Daniel, don't worry me," Rachel warned him. "Are you in trouble?" she asked. He paused.

"Yeah. Yeah, Rach. I'm… I'm so far in the shit that I don't even know where I am," he told her. "They're taking me in for a few days. I hope it's just for a few days. So they can investigate properly," he tried to explain.

"What have you done?" Rachel asked. Danny breathed in through his teeth and paused briefly.

"I can't tell you much, but… it's a murder case. I don't know any more than that, so I can't tell you any more," he answered. She gasped.

"Murder?" she repeated, horrified. "Danny! Bloody hell, I know you better than anyone on earth. I'm your ex-wife, for God's sake! You're a terrible husband, but you'd never murder anyone!" Danny shook his head and couldn't help but let out a breath of laughter at her backhanded compliment.

"Thanks, Rach."

"You know what I mean. What does Steve say? Can't he do anything?" she demanded. Danny pursed his lips and shook his head.

"No," he replied. "He said I could call to say goodbye to Grace," he told her.

"Of course. Just a second," she began. "Grace! Your father's on the phone!" she called out, then resumed her conversation with Danny. "Look. Danny. I know it doesn't mean much, coming from me, but… I know you're innocent. You didn't do this. Anyone who knows you knows that this is a set-up. Please, don't just roll over to this. You've got to fight it. Grace needs her father; she doesn't need to visit a man in jail who only has his pride left. I know you, remember? We both need you," she finished, pausing significantly before saying her last sentence. Danny clamped his lips together and nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed, barely above a whisper. "I know. Thanks."

"Grace is here now. Take care. Your team will sort this mess out," she promised him. The next voice Danny heard was Grace's.

"Daddy!" she cried, excitedly.

"Hey, Monkey!" he began, beaming at the sound of her voice. "Look, I just called to let you know that… uh… I'm so sorry, but a big case at work has come up, and it means that I've, uh… I've got to go away for a while, okay?" he told her, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he got to the end of his sentence.

"Oh," she answered, sounding disappointed. "You're coming back though, right?" she asked, a little worried.

"Hey, of course I'm coming back! Listen, I moved out to Hawaii to be with you, remember? I'm not just gonna leave you and not come back! I'm your dad, right? I'm always gonna come back for you!" he assured her, half of him wishing he was there to hug her one last time, the rest of him sure that he couldn't bear having this conversation with her face to face.

"Well, how long will you be gone for?" she asked, doubtfully.

"Oh – not long. Just a few days, I promise. And as soon as I've done the boring stuff I gotta do with work, you can come over, stay with me. Kono's teaching me to surf, we can go surfing together. Then we can watch some movies at my place, we can get a pizza even bigger than you – I'll tell you the rules of baseball again," he reeled off. Grace groaned dramatically.

"Daddy! Not baseball!" she protested, giggling. Danny smiled fondly and bit his lip.

"No baseball, it's a deal," he agreed. "Uncle Steve says 'hi', by the way," he added. Steve quickly waved at the phone to validate Danny's comment.

"Hi, Uncle Steve!" she shouted, loud enough for Steve to hear. Not even Steve's normally cast-iron constitution could resist Grace's all-encompassing cuteness, and he couldn't help but grin inanely at the sound of her voice.

"Okay, Monkey, I gotta go now. You be good for your Mom and for Stan, okay?" he instructed.

"Okay. Love you, Daddy," she told him, happily. He pressed his lips together again, set his jaw firmly and widened his eyes to bring back the tear that was threatening to spill over his eyelid.

"Love you too, baby," he answered, cutting off the call. He looked at Steve helplessly. Steve took two steps towards him and clamped his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Three days. Maximum," he began. "Give me three days. I'll take you and Grace out for dinner myself when this is over," he promised. Danny raised an eyebrow, sceptically. "I'll even pay for it," he added.

"Now, that I find very hard to believe," Danny responded, dryly. "C'mon, then. We'd better do this, before I change my mind," he insisted. Steve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"God, Danno, this is stupid – I know you didn't do this!" he protested. Danny glared at him.

"Do it, Steve. Before I do something else that you'll _have_ to arrest me for," he warned him. Steve nodded. He knew Danny would do it, too. He was like an albino Joe Pesci with a badge.

"Come on, then," he finally relented, opening the door and walking about three steps ahead of Danny as they headed toward the Interview Room. "You want your lawyer?" he asked. Danny shook his head. "C'mon, you want to do this by the book, you should have a lawyer here," he pointed out, sitting one side of the table and indicating the seat opposite for Danny to sit down.

"Steve. I don't need a lawyer. No lawyer in the world would take this case on pro bono, which is all I can afford right now," Danny replied, his tone weary as he sat opposite Steve.

"Okay. Your choice. So... I'm just gonna tell you a name, and I want you to tell me if it rings any bells with you. Anything from your career to date," Steve began. Danny shrugged.

"I don't see why it would, I've only been here for a year, but go ahead," he agreed. Steve paused. "C'mon, stop being such a drama queen. I'm telling you, I've never seen the girl before in my life," he assured him. Steve nodded.

"Her name's Anna Stephenson. You ever heard of her?" he asked.

Danny's jaw dropped.

"Anna Stephenson?" he repeated. "You're sure it's Anna Stephenson?" he asked, thoroughly panic-stricken.

"Yeah. Anna Stephenson. She was reported missing nine months ago from North Bergen, New Jersey," Steve told her.

"Anna Stephenson from North Bergen, New Jersey?" he asked. "Steve, you're not making this up are you? Please... Please tell me this is just some sick joke?" he begged. Steve shook his head.

"Who is she, Danny?" he asked. Danny slammed his fist into the table with frustration.

"The sonofabitch did it! I can't believe he did it!" he ranted.

"Wait. Danny. You know who did this?" Steve asked, utterly confounded. Danny leaned across the table and grabbed Steve by both of his shoulders.

"You have to get Rachel and Grace out of here. You have to get them somewhere safe and you have to get them there _now_," he demanded, urgently.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Danny refused to say another word until Steve had managed to get Grace and Rachel to safety. He didn't care about anything else; his only priority was their welfare. On further consideration, Danny also stipulated that Stan would have to accompany them – Danny didn't trust him enough to keep his mouth shut about Rachel and Grace's whereabouts. Hawaii wasn't safe enough. New Jersey was out. It had to be somewhere nobody would look for them, somewhere completely disassociated from the Williams family.

Steve had asked Kono to go and deliver the news to Rachel. She knew it wouldn't be a popular message.

"Denver?" Rachel repeated, incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I can't just pack up mine and Grace's things and go to Denver on the whim of my ex-husband!"

"We've arranged for flights and accommodation in a safe house over there for the foreseeable future. For all three of you. Danny's insistent that Stan goes, too," Kono told her.

"Stan's away on business, he won't be back from Thailand for the next three weeks," Rachel told her.

"Really?" Kono asked. "Who else knows about this?"

"I… don't know. Anyone who knows Stan's schedule, I suppose. Three, four people in his office, perhaps, Grace, myself… definitely less than ten people," she answered, frowning slightly as she tried to remember. Kono nodded.

"We have to get you out of here, and we have to move now – or this case won't progress. Danny would rather go to jail for this than make himself sick worrying that you and Grace are in danger. He won't co-operate further until he knows you're both safe," she explained. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"He is such a Williams," she sighed. "I've never known a family like it! They're their own Mafia. You can't just divorce your way out, believe me!"

"Rachel, the chances are that this case will be over in a couple of days. Steve isn't going to rest until Danny's name has been cleared. So… in the meantime, promise me you won't tell anyone where you are. Not even Stan," Kono pleaded. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Kono, he's my husband – I have to tell him where I am!" she protested. Kono ran her hands through her hair.

"I don't want to do this, but Danny told you I had to tell you the name of the victim if you refused to come with me," she told her. Rachel frowned.

"What is it?" she asked, shaking her head slightly in confusion.

"Anna Stephenson," Kono answered. Rachel's eyes widened.

"Oh my god. No," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hands.

"You know anything about this woman?" Kono asked. Rachel nodded.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Is this anything to do with any of Danny's cases when he was in New Jersey?"

"A murder case that went cold. Well. Only due to lack of evidence. Everyone knew who was responsible. It was ten years ago now. Before Grace was even a thought," Rachel answered, turning her back on Kono and heading inside. "Grace?" she called, anxiously. "Grace, come here please," she called out. There was a silence that seemed to last for an eternity before Grace finally replied.

"Coming, Mom!" she shouted in a sing-song voice as she ran through the hallway. "Hi, Kono!" she called over, waving at Kono. Kono smiled at her.

"Hey, sweetie," she greeted her. Rachel crouched down to Grace's eye level and squeezed her arm gently.

"Grace, we need to pack up. We're going away for a few days. Just on a short vacation," Rachel told her. Grace frowned.

"What about Daddy? What about Stan?" she asked.

"Daddy's away, working on a case, remember? Stan will be away for another three weeks on business," Rachel replied. Grace looked up at Kono.

"Are we in danger?" she asked, bluntly. Kono and Rachel looked at each other before looking back at Grace. Kono could say one thing for Danny's daughter – she didn't miss a trick.

"Grace, do you remember last Tuesday when Jenny Riley took Matty Johnson's bar of chocolate and put it in your lunch bag to make it look like you'd taken it?" Rachel asked. Grace looked at her mother as though she'd just grown an extra head.

"Yeah," she replied, cautiously, not sure what her mother was talking about.

"Well… a very bad man has done a terrible thing, and he's made it look as though your father did it. So, Uncle Steve, Kono and Chin are all helping to prove that Danno didn't do it. While they're doing that, he thinks we should take a little vacation somewhere, just to make sure we're safe," Rachel explained. "We'll only be a few days. Your daddy loves you very much, and he'd always want both of us to be safe. So it would really help him and Uncle Steve to concentrate on finding the bad guy if they knew that we were somewhere that nobody could hurt us."

Grace thought about this for a few moments, her face serious as she absently clutched her mother's hand.

"Are you scared, Mom?" she whispered. Rachel shook her head.

"Not at all. Your daddy would never let anything happen to either of us," she promised.

"I think I'm a little scared," Grace admitted. Rachel wrapped her arms around Grace and hugged her tightly.

"I won't leave you for a second. We'll be brave together," she promised. "Come on. Let's pack a few things. Kono's going to take us to the airport," she explained.

"Are you coming with us, Kono?" Grace asked, hopefully. Kono smiled and shook her head.

"I would love to, but I've got to help catch the bad guy too. You want me to give him an extra kick from you when we get him?" she offered. Grace grinned and nodded. "It's a deal," she agreed with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, Danny lay on the hard bed in his cell, staring at the ceiling. He was faced with the same problem that he'd had ten years earlier over the same man. He knew who the killer was. He knew that the killer would, at that moment, be sat in his office, having a good chuckle to himself at the thought of Detective Daniel Williams cooped up in a prison cell.

He also knew that there wasn't a single shred of evidence to link the killer to Anna's murder.

He had never met Anna personally. They had spoken to each other several times on the phone, but due to the circumstances of the investigation, they had never had a face-to-face conversation. He remembered her face now. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were her brown, lifeless eyes, staring up at him. He didn't know why, he hadn't even given it any thought at the time, he had always just assumed she was blonde. It didn't make any difference what hair colour she had. She was still dead.

Danny looked down at his uniform and grimaced. The residents of the prison may have committed an unspeakable number of heinous crimes, but Danny would never in a zillion years understand why, as an added punishment, they should all be made to wear such a revolting shade of orange. Nobody suited the shapeless, orange jumpsuit look. He couldn't see the likes of Al Capone sitting around in a prison cell wearing Day-Glo Orange. Even if he did like wearing lilac and lime green suits. Those suits were tailor-made using the finest materials. He looked sharp, suave, sophisticated – debonair, even. Danny shook his head and sighed.

"I look like an Oompa Loompa," he muttered to himself.

Just as he was thinking about Gene Wilder's finer moments during his performance in _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory _– which, luckily, Grace was far more interested in than the Johnny Depp remake – a key turned in the lock of his cell door. He didn't bother sitting up until he saw who walked in.

"Just had a call from Kono," Steve told him as he walked in and sat down on the other end of his bed without even bothering with a greeting. "They're safe." Danny sat up and pushed himself back against the wall.

"Steven. I don't recall you knocking before you came in. I don't recall you asking my permission to take a seat. You know, we gotta establish certain rules of respect and etiquette here, my friend, or I'm gonna start thinking you take me for granted," he told him, sternly, but his eyes twinkling. It was nice to see a friendly face, after all. Steve looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You gonna give that suit back to the Oompa Loompa you borrowed it from when you get outta here?" he asked, dryly. Danny shook his head.

"The one time you find your sense of humour and you make the most obvious joke possible about my uniform. First, you insult me with your bad manners upon entering my cell, now you insult my choice of attire. If I were a self-conscious man, I'd be offended now," he informed him. Steve shook his head and tried to hide a smile.

"I'm sorry, Danno. You want me to come in again?" he offered. Danny shrugged.

"You're here now, you better say what you gotta say and go, Cop," he shot back at him with a grin.

"You got a name for me?" Steve asked. Danny nodded.

"You're sure they're safe?" Danny demanded. "Because once I tell you this name, it's like open season on the Williamses, okay? Not just Rachel and Grace, either. My mother, my father, my sisters – if you don't catch this guy soon with some rock solid evidence… Steve, I can't even think about it. I just can't," he told him. Steve leaned across and rested his hand on Danny's arm.

"Listen. I will do whatever it takes. Seriously. Whatever it takes to bring this guy in – you got it. He's messed with the wrong team," Steve promised him. Danny nodded his understanding, but still hesitated in responding with the name. "Danny. Nothing will happen to Grace. We're gonna get this guy, okay? We're gonna get this guy and we're gonna get you out of here."

"I swear to God, Steve, if he so much as shakes a fist anywhere near my daughter, I'm gonna tear his throat out myself," Danny whispered, shaking with emotion.

"It won't happen. You need to tell me," Steve insisted. "You need to tell me now."

Danny swallowed hard, took a deep breath and looked up at Steve.

"Joe Cantaldo," he answered, quietly, in case anyone else heard him. Steve nodded.

"What, is he… like… the mob over there?" he asked. Danny laughed at him.

"Are you kidding me? Do you seriously think Goodfellas is some kind of documentary?" he asked, chuckling. "The guy's got connections, I'll give you that. He keeps himself clean and has guys to pull triggers for him – but he's the one you want," he explained.

"Who's Anna Stephenson?" Steve asked.

"She was an eyewitness. Cantaldo had his cousin, Frankie, murdered in the street. Anna saw the guy that pulled the trigger. So did a few others – but, as the case went on, more and more eyewitnesses disappeared, then they were discovered a few days later. Dead, but they'd had fingers, toes, even eyes removed before they'd been murdered. Eventually, Anna decided she hadn't seen anything after all and the case went cold. No evidence," he explained. Steve shook his head and let out a breath.

"Sounds like a great guy," he commented. Danny grinned and nodded. "So… why's he come after you?" he asked.

"I killed his nephew, Tony," Danny answered, simply. Steve's eyes widened. "It was during the investigation. We were pursuing two suspects in a car chase, which ended in a gunfight. Most of 'em do in Jersey, it's just like your average rush-hour thing," he explained with a half-hearted laugh, hoping Steve would break the tension by laughing back at his lousy attempt at a joke, but he wasn't too surprised that he didn't. "Anyway. It was my shot that killed his nephew. Word got back to Joe, and then, one night, we got a knock on the door. Rachel answered and…" he broke off, visibly troubled by the memory.

"Look, we can do this later, if you don't want to carry on," Steve assured him. Danny shook his head.

"No. We gotta get this guy," he insisted, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. "This guy, he forced his way in, he had a gun to Rachel's head. She was… she was terrified. I was so scared I couldn't even move, I can't even imagine how she felt," he recalled, shaking his head in disbelief. "He said that Joe knew I'd killed Tony, and that he would make me pay. He said he was going to play a long game, but he was going to come after me when I least expected it, and he was going to make me suffer for what I'd done," he told him. "Then he just left. He just dropped Rachel to the floor, turned round, and walked out like he'd just called in to borrow a jar of coffee."

Steve closed his eyes, leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"His nephew? You couldn't have shot his dog?" Steve finally demanded.

"At that particular moment, Joe's dog wasn't resisting arrest and shooting at me from behind his car door!" Danny argued. "Besides, what sort of psychopathic person would just shoot a dog for no reason?" Steve shrugged.

"I'm just saying you could've chosen a better target," he pointed out. Danny rolled his eyes.

"Well I'm sorry, but I didn't have a convenient shark tank nearby to throw him into – or a roof to dangle him from by his ankles!" he shot back at him. "Besides, I have never known anybody shoot and kill more suspects than you do! Sometimes we need information from these people!" he ranted.

"You could've just shot to wound, you know!" Steve argued. Danny raised his eyes heavenward and mouthed the word 'why'.

"You know something, Steve – you're the best man I know for handing out brilliant advice ten years after an event!" he snapped. "Now, go on. Get the hell outta here and do your job," he insisted, shooing Steve out of his cell. "Go on. Get outta here, I don't wanna see you till you tell me you got the guy, you hear?"

"Okay, I'm going. You… you want me to see if they can give you another colour jumpsuit? For Sundays, maybe? Maybe something in blue?" he suggested. Danny shook his head.

"Why are you still talking to me? Do your job. Find the killer," he answered, slowly yet firmly, trying desperately not to yell at him. Steve gave him a brief salute and nod as he disappeared from view. Danny sighed and lay back down on his bed.

He knew that Steve would find Joe Cantaldo. He knew that he would link him to Anna's murder. He even dared to hope that he would find solid forensic evidence linking him to, not just Anna's murder, but Frankie Cantaldo's murder ten years earlier. He knew that eventually, Cantaldo wouldn't be clever enough and would make a mistake – and that Steve would be there, waiting for him.

Danny just hoped that Steve would be able to do all of this before Cantaldo had the chance to wreak any more havoc on his life.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_"Rain Man liked to drive. You have control issues."_

Steve smiled to himself as Danny's words ran through his mind. He didn't even know why that, out of all the wisecracks he'd made over the last few months, had suddenly thrown itself into his conscious thought. Until, of course, he was brought out of his daydream by blaring car horns around him.

He shook his head. He really needed to stop driving through red lights. Steve could almost hear what Danny would have said to him if he'd been there. He pouted, his eyes drifting over forlornly to the empty passenger seat. For once, he wished Danny had been there to shout at him for all the broken contraventions of varying traffic laws.

Still. It was partly Danny's fault that Steve had driven through a red light in the first place. He chuckled as he imagined what answer Danny would have for that excuse. If Danny hadn't been stuck in his cell, Steve wouldn't be thinking about him. Danny would be sat next to him, complaining in his usual articulate 'why use one word when fifty will do' manner about nothing in particular. He'd be hungry after being on the road for five whole minutes. He'd compare something Hawaiian to something from Jersey and complain that he missed home and how much he hated Hawaii, and how the only good thing about 'the pineapple-infested hell hole' was Grace, who, he would hasten to add, was from New Jersey, so even the good things about Hawaii were only made to be good because of New Jersey. Steve would actually be putting all of his concentration into driving so that he could successfully ignore Danny completely.

Steve had enjoyed his imaginary rant from Danny so much that he was surprised to discover that he'd found his way back to headquarters in what felt like no time at all.

"How is he?" Chin asked as Steve strode over to the smart table. Steve shook his head.

"I dunno. Scared, mostly," he answered. Chin's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Danny Williams? Scared?" Chin said. Steve nodded.

"I guess if a Jersey gangster had framed me for murder to avenge his nephew's death from ten years earlier, I'd be worried too," he admitted. Chin shook his head in disbelief.

"You're kidding?"

"What have we got on a Joe Cantaldo?" he asked. Chin tapped the name into the smart table and brought the results up on the screen. Steve and Chin both let out a synchronised low whistle.

"Drug trafficking, prostitution rings, counterfeiting, fraud, murder, kidnap, extortion..." Steve read aloud.

"Just your regular tourist activities," Chin remarked, dryly. Steve smirked.

"And no charges have stuck. On anything," he added, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, Joe - I got a feeling your luck's due to run out soon," he finished.

"Is there a connection between Joe Cantaldo and the victim?" Chin asked. Steve nodded.

"Oh yeah. A good one, too," he answered. "She was an eyewitness to the murder of his cousin ten years ago."

"His cousin? He killed his own cousin?"

"He wasn't the guy who pulled the trigger, but everyone knew the guy in the back with his thumb pointing down was Cantaldo," Steve said. Chin whistled again.

"That's cold, brah," he needlessly commented. Steve nodded. "Did the case ever go to court?"

"No eyewitness evidence," Steve answered. Chin frowned.

"But I thought you just said-"

"There were a few other eyewitnesses of the murder. They were all killed within a few days of each other - Anna suddenly decided she hadn't seen anything after all," Steve explained. Chin sighed.

"Can you blame her?" he reasoned. Steve shook his head and they both stood in silence for a few moments, not too sure what to do next. Suddenly, Chin's face lit up. "I wonder where he is, right now?" Steve frowned at him.

"Where do you think he is?" Steve asked. Chin grinned at him.

"I think Joe's gotten sloppy," he replied. Steve blinked and pretended he hadn't noted Chin's terrible pun. Without waiting to ask permission, or to expand on his inkling, Chin disappeared into his office as Kono walked in.

"You got anything, Kono?" Steve asked, hopefully. She nodded.

"I got word back from Forensics, the results from Danny's blood test is back," she said. "He'd been given two large doses of thiopental in twenty-four hours." Steve frowned.

"Thiopental? What is that?" he asked. She smiled briefly.

"It's a barbiturate, used mostly in hospitals. Unconsciousness occurs within about a minute," she explained. Steve frowned.

"Where did they take him?"

"Looks like they kept him in his apartment," she answered, looking up at Steve and feeling pained in her heart at the look of genuine distress in Steve's eyes. "There were no bruises or any other physical marks on him to say that he might have been carried anywhere or that he'd been in any kind of struggle, aside from the puncture wound from the injection."

"That stuff's like a general anaesthetic, right?" he asked. Kono nodded.

"That's not all. The exact same drug was given to Anna Stephenson. We got her tox screen back too," she said. "Except Anna was only given one injection - but almost the same dosage as both Danny's injections put together."

"That's what killed her?" Steve guessed. Kono nodded.

"She was clearly beaten and throttled before she was injected, and that may well have happened away from Danny's apartment - but it was the injection that killed her, not the asphyxiation," she answered. Steve frowned and bit his lower lip, deep in thought.

"Let's see if Mr Cantaldo has any doctors on his friends list," he suggested. Kono tapped in the details on the smart table and a handful of doctors were thrown up. Most of them based in New Jersey, a few in New York and one, bizarrely, from Montreal. Steve frowned.

"You think he'd ship his own doctor out over here to administer that sort of drug?" he asked. Kono pursed her lips together and thought it over for a moment, and suddenly a broad grin took over her face.

"Let's see if he has any friends who used to be doctors," she suggested, tapping a few more keywords in. Only one more doctor's name flashed up. "Gotcha!" she cheered. Steve looked at the screen and then grinned at her.

"Consultant anaesthetist, struck off three years ago," he read aloud. "Wonder what he'd done?"

"He'd be a really useful friend to have in this situation," Kono said.

"He'd be the man I'd want for this particular job, if I was Joe Cantaldo," Steve agreed. "Good job, Kono," he commended her, squeezing her shoulder. She grinned bashfully and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's go find this guy," he said. They both started walking towards the door, just as Chin ran out of his office and practically bumped straight into Kono.

"Hey, not so fast!" he began. "You're never gonna guess where our friend Cantaldo is," he said, excitedly. Steve shook his head. "He arrived in Wailuku five days ago!" Steve's eyes widened.

"You were right. Joe is getting sloppy," he agreed. Kono rolled her eyes.

"You didn't make a Sloppy Joe joke, Chin?" she protested. He shrugged.

"It was funnier at the time. Steve didn't say it quite right. You kinda had to be there, cuz," he explained. Steve shot her a look.

"You really didn't," he said, his expression completely deadpan. She chuckled. "Let's go," he insisted, heading back towards the door. Chin looked at the screen and frowned. On the screen was a name he hadn't heard in years.

"Dr Milton Huang," he read aloud. He frowned. Why did that name ring a bell?

Danny sighed. He'd written letters to his mom and dad. He didn't know why, he knew he wasn't going to send them - he could just imagine his mother's reaction on getting a letter from her eldest son written on prison notepaper. He was bored. He shouldn't be in prison, a vision in tangerine, while Joe Cantaldo was out there, somewhere, quite literally getting away with murder. He shook his head. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to feel this way. After all, he'd been the one who had insisted upon his temporary incarceration in the first place.

He suddenly became aware of the key turning in the lock of his cell door, and he frowned as a tall man in a very expensive Italian suit walked into his cell.

"Thank you, that will be all, I need some privacy with my client," the man told the guard. The guard let out a grunt of compliance and Danny heard his footsteps walk away down the corridor.

"Can I help you?" he asked. The man nodded.

"Yes, Detective Williams, I'm John Molis. Your lawyer," he answered in a friendly voice, outstretching his hand expectantly. Danny looked at the man's hand and then looked up at his face. Danny's relatively limited personal experience with lawyers had taught him that they could never be trusted, they were more slippery than a bar of soap in a shower cubicle. The man that stood before him, however, made even the most odious of all Danny'd previous encounters with lawyers seem like Mother Theresa.

"I didn't ask for a lawyer. In fact, I specifically insisted that no lawyer should be present at any time during this investigation," he answered, his heckles rising, and his gut instinct telling him that something was very wrong indeed about the situation he now found himself in. Mr Molis smiled at him, but it was a smile that only involved his lips, not the rest of his face and especially not his eyes, which burned with a cold malice.

"I'm afraid your boss intervened, so here I am," he said. Danny shrugged.

"My boss? You mean Inspector McGonigal?" he asked, nonchalantly. Molis nodded.

"That's right," he answered, without flinching or pausing to correct Danny over Steve's name or rank. Alarm bells screamed inside Danny's head.

"Get out," Danny insisted. Molis looked at him, quizzically.

"Get out?" he repeated. Danny grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and thrust him bodily into the wall.

"I'm not going to tell you again - get out! He sent you!" he roared. He released his grasp on one of Molis' lapels in order to make a fist, which he had planned to ram into Molis' face. To his surprise Molis, with what seemed to be little more than a flick of his wrist, sent Danny crashing to the ground. As Danny lay sprawled on the floor, dazed, Molis couldn't resist the opportunity to boot him in the stomach. He crouched down beside Danny, who was now spluttering and gasping for breath.

"Did you really think you'd be safe in here, Cop?" he asked, not much louder than a whisper. "Did you really think Joe couldn't get to you in here?"

His next words made Danny's blood run cold.

"Do you really think he couldn't get to Grace and Rachel... in Denver?"


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"This is a joke."

"Who's laughing?"

"You never laugh, you're completely devoid of a sense of humour, we've already discussed this. My point is – you can't just take me out of prison with no warning!"

"Technically, I can."

"Oh, technically!"

"Listen to me, okay? You've been attacked in your cell by someone who works for the guy trying to frame you for murder. You're not safe in there!"

"He was only a skinny guy!"

"He floored you and left the imprint of his Italian shoes on your ribcage!"

"It's just a bruise!"

"The doctor said it's a cracked rib!"

"I would've got up and fought back if the guard hadn't come in!"

"Sure you would, Rambo - Cantaldo would've loved that!"

"_Rambo_?"

"You're avoiding the issue. If you'd fought back, not even the Governor could've got you out of that! Keeping you there is exactly what Cantaldo wants!"

"You're focussing on entirely the wrong thing, okay? The guy said they know where Grace is."

"You can't stay here, Danny. You're in danger."

"I'm in danger? What about my daughter? She's in danger and she doesn't even know who from!"

"From whom."

"I don't need your semantics right now, you big jerk!"

"Right now, you're my concern."

"Grace is my concern."

"My concern takes priority. What use are you gonna be to Grace if you're stuck in there? We've proved you didn't do it. You were taking up a cell you're not entitled to. Besides, the Bears called - they want their alternate strip back."

"You're a jackass."

"That the best you got?"

"I'm saving it for the car."

"Why are you taking this out on me? I've never known anyone so angry about getting out of jail!"

"What I don't seem to be able to get through your thick skull, Steven, is this very important point. At this particular moment in time, a psychopathic maniac is threatening to harm my eight-year-old daughter - who is, as far as I will ever be concerned, the epitome of innocence itself - and all you seem to care about is getting me out of here, instead of stopping him!"

"You think I don't care about Grace?"

"I know you don't care as much as I do!"

Steve sighed. The conversation was now officially pointless.

"Danno. You're holding up my investigation. Now get in the car, people are staring at you," he said, stepping out in front of his car and heading towards the driver's side. Danny looked around at the open-mouthed passers-by, who could only see a convict in an orange jumpsuit having an argument with a man about whether he should stay in prison or not.

"What do you mean, you've proved I didn't do it?" he asked as he shut the door and looked across at Steve.

"You'd been pumped full of barbiturates, you were out of it for two days," he answered. "The same drug had been given to Anna Stephenson - that's what killed her."

"That seems a little clumsy for a guy like Cantaldo, don't you think?" Danny asked. Steve shrugged.

"I can't work out if it's clumsy or arrogant," he answered.

"You think he did it to distract us from something bigger?" Danny suggested. Steve pressed his lips together and took a deep breath.

"I've thought about it," he said. "My main problem is linking him to this at all. We've got a suspect for the murder, but without some concrete evidence linking the guy to Cantaldo, we're left with the problem you had ten years ago."

"Where are we going?" Danny asked.

"I'm taking you to your place. You're going to dress like a human being, and then you're gonna go pick up your daughter," Steve told him. Danny stared at him in disbelief.

"You can't do that! I've been a suspect in a murder investigation, you can't let me join in the investigation now my name's been cleared!" he protested. Steve glanced at him, bemused.

"Who says I'm letting you get involved in the investigation? At what point did I suggest letting you anywhere near my investigation? Why do you think I want you to go to Denver? You'll be a liability here," he told him. Danny raised his eyebrows in protest, but took no offence. "I'm investigating a murder. All I want you to do is get out of Hawaii and make sure Grace and Rachel are safe."

"You've arranged for the Government to pay for me to get out of Hawaii and save my daughter in the process?" Danny asked. Steve nodded. "I don't care what people say about you - sometimes you're not such a knucklehead after all," he told him with a grin. Steve smiled back at him until Danny's words registered completely.

"Who says I'm a knucklehead?" he demanded, frowning. Danny chuckled and mimed reeling in a fishing line.

"This is what I mean about you being devoid of a sense of humour!" he retorted.

Steve responded with a disgruntled sigh. If he'd known that Danny was going to be in this mood, he would have at least let him stew for a while longer in the prison sick bay, instead of letting Kono go by herself to interview Dr Huang.

Danny was in an unusually cheerful mood as Steve dropped him off at his apartment, with instructions to be ready in twenty minutes because Steve 'didn't have time to sit around waiting for him to make sure that the knot in his tie was the right size'. He found flight tickets, his badge and gun on his bedside table.

Things were looking up. Admittedly, the big picture was still a rather grim one, with Danny sporting a cracked rib, not to mention the fact that his daughter was in untold danger - but there were definite positives he could take from the day's events. He was out of jail, and now he was going to get the hell away from Hawaii. It was a small victory, but nonetheless, it beat dressing in prison clothes, relieving oneself in a glorified tin can and listening to the blood-chilling screams of junkie inmates demanding methadone. Even if the only reason he was leaving Hawaii was to find his daughter and ex-wife before the bad guys did, it was good enough for him. There was something quite heroic about the whole scenario, he suddenly thought. Danny didn't particularly see himself as the heroic type - not like GI Joe McGarrett, anyway. Still, as far as Grace was concerned, Danny was more than a hero - he was her Daddy. He was a father whose child was in danger. Who else was going to be as committed to finding Grace and Rachel and protecting them from whatever danger Joe Cantaldo had put them in?

"Steve's not as dumb as he looks," Danny thought aloud, grinning to himself.

He wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air, and then shook his head distastefully. He knew one thing, for an absolute certainty. He had to get the smell of prison out of his skin before he did anything else.

The high-pressured jets of hot water from the shower pelted down and hit Danny at the base of his neck, just above his shoulder blades. He rolled his head from side to side and let out a sigh of relief as he felt the tension in his neck being pounded away by the water. Soon, all he could smell was shower gel as he thoroughly soaped every last inch of prison dust from himself. He felt better already.

Chin sat at his desk, deep in thought. He knew the doctor's name from somewhere.

"Dr Milton Huang," he repeated quietly to himself, his brow furrowed. He knew it was something to do with an investigation that he hadn't been involved in, but it must have caused a stir at HPD for him to have some vague recollection of the name.

He wandered over to the smart table and typed Dr Huang's name in, then pressed the tab for his previous criminal history. As soon as Chin started reading, the memories flooded back to him.

Dr Huang had served two years in a high security prison for the attempted rape of a patient who was under general anaesthesia. He had been caught by a nurse, who raised the alarm. Dr Huang had stabbed the nurse in the shoulder with a scalpel before making good his escape. Chin shook his head in disgust.

"If that doesn't get a guy struck off the medical register, nothing will," he muttered to himself. He pressed another two or three keys to bring up Dr Huang's current known location, which brought up the name and address of a pharmaceutical company in Wailuku. He frowned.

"Wailuku?" he muttered. He was just about to press on the name of the company as Steve walked in.

"I'm picking up Danny and taking him to the airport," he announced. Chin looked over his shoulder at him, slightly distracted.

"I'm just looking into the business dealings of our doctor," he explained. Steve walked over to the smart table to join him.

"Yeah? You think there's something funny going on?" he asked. Chin pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I hope so," he answered. "The registered office of his pharmaceutical company is in Wailuku," he told him. Steve frowned.

"That's where our friend Cantaldo's staying," he realised. Chin nodded as he pressed the company name and information regarding the directors came up.

"Gianni Carluccio?" Steve read aloud, then leaned over and lightly tapped on the name. "That doesn't sound like a local name to me."

The word 'alias' flashed up on the screen. Steve and Chin's stomachs both turned in excitement as they looked at each other.

"Please God let this be an alias for Cantaldo," Steve needlessly commented as he waited for another name to flash up.

As predicted, the surname that flashed up was indeed 'Cantaldo'. To Steve's surprise, the first name wasn't 'Joe'.

"Francesco Cantaldo?" Chin and Steve read in unison, then looked at each other again, completely bewildered.

"Frankie? Isn't he...?" Chin asked. Steve nodded.

"According to his local cemetery, he is," he agreed. Chin and Steve sighed heavily. "Why did I think this was going to be uncomplicated?" he said. He closed two or three windows on the smart table until he got back to the company address details. Chin shook his head and briefly looked around the room for no particular reason.

"Where's Kono?" Chin asked, suddenly.

"She's gone to interview Huang," Steve replied. Chin stared at Steve as though he had completely taken leave of his senses.

"Alone?" he asked. Steve nodded.

"She's only going to talk to him, she can handle it - you know she's tougher than she looks!" he reasoned. Chin raced into his office, grabbed his gun and ran towards the door. "Where are you going?" Steve demanded. Chin pointed at the screen.

"Backup," he answered simply, as he disappeared from sight. Steve frowned as he looked at the screen. Next to the address of Dr Huang's company was a list of his criminal activity. Steve's face dropped as he realised what he'd done.

"Danny's right. I am a jackass," he muttered. He picked up the nearest thing to hand and threw it across the room in frustration. It was only a stapler, and the noise made on its collision with the wall didn't really have the therapeutic effect he'd hoped for.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Steve rolled his eyes and wished that he could be struck with temporary deafness, as Danny was in mid-flow of his 'backup' rant.

"Do you think I tell you these things because I like nagging you? Do you think I enjoy hearing the sound of my own voice like a scratched record as I tell you for what must be the trillionth time that you always send two officers together to interview a suspect?" he demanded. "Backup, Steven! Backup! It's not a helpful hint or a mild suggestion - it's Police Procedure One-Oh-One!"

"I thought you were my partner, not my wife," Steve finally cut in. Danny's eyes widened and Steve was sure he saw the vein in Danny's temple begin to throb.

"Don't try it, Steve, all right? You're the knucklehead who sent a rookie cop to interview a rapist by herself!" he ranted.

"Will you quit calling me a knucklehead? That's twice in one day!" Steve protested.

"What are you, twelve?" Danny snapped. "Just... don't talk to me, okay?"

They sat in silence for a few moments, both furious with each other.

"Kono can handle the situation," Steve finally mumbled. Danny looked up at him, his face the dictionary definition of 'incredulity'.

"Really? You know this, how, exactly? Or do you happen to be able to list clairvoyance among your Other Skills on your résumé?" he asked, sarcastically. "Even if Kono can deal with this guy - and I agree with you, she's so tough her nails get rusty - the fact is, she shouldn't have to deal with him on her own. Which brings me back to my original point. You should have made sure she had backup!" Danny told him, raising his voice and slowing down the speed of his words during the last sentence as he attempted to drive the point home. Steve closed his eyes briefly, his head starting to ache from Danny's tirade.

"You're right. I should have left you stewing in prison for another hour and gone with her, thereby putting the rescue of your ex-wife and daughter back a couple hours. Would you have preferred that?" Steve asked.

"Don't blame me for this. Like you say, this is your investigation. You don't think the doctor could have waited? He doesn't know you're onto him, he's in no danger of running away," Danny pointed out. "You messed up, Steve. Okay? I'm sorry, but you messed up. And if Kono gets through this, which I have no doubt she will - it will be through her tenacity and skill as a police officer rather than anything you did, I want you to remember that, okay?"

Steve sighed. He knew he was going to have to say something he didn't want to say.

"I'm sorry, Danny. Okay? I'm sorry. You're right. I should've made sure she had backup," he finally relented. Danny looked at him.

"Yeah. You should," he agreed. "She'll be fine," he added, flashing him a reassuring grin. Both of them hoped he was right.

Kono strolled calmly into the building and walked straight to the reception desk.

"May I help you?" the receptionist began with a smile. Kono nodded.

"I'd like to see Mr Huang, please," she answered, matching the receptionist's smile. The receptionist frowned slightly.

"Do you have an appointment to see Dr Huang, ma'am?" she asked, deliberately emphasising the word 'doctor'. Kono's smile didn't waver as she showed the receptionist her ID Badge.

"I wasn't aware I needed one," she replied. The receptionist's eyes widened. She was clearly shaken, but tried to keep her cool.

"I'll just call him," she began, lifting the receiver from the hook. Kono reached across, took the receiver from the receptionist and replaced it firmly.

"There's no need," she assured her. "Just tell me where his office is."

"Up the stairs, third on the right," the receptionist answered, warily. Kono nodded.

"Thanks. Oh, and, uh - don't even think about taking an early lunch. I need to speak to you, too," she added. The receptionist stared at her.

"Me? Why me?" she stammered. Kono grinned.

"You really need to practise your poker face," she advised.

Kono followed the receptionist's direction and quickly found her way to Dr Huang's office. She didn't know why, but something about the sterile atmosphere, heavy with silence, told her that she had to tread very carefully with Dr Huang. He had been struck from the medical register, for reasons she was still unaware of, and he was a known associate of Joe Cantaldo. He wouldn't show her any special treatment simply because she was a woman. She was a police officer, and she had information that may lead to his arrest and incarceration. She knew she had faced scarier situations before - but somehow, this time, she felt nervous as she tapped gently on the door.

"Come in!" a voice called. She opened the door and walked in. She wasn't sure what to expect of Dr Huang, but she hadn't expected him to be quite so young, nor had she expected him to be as short and overweight as he was. He wore small, round glasses, which kept slipping to the end of his nose, and had the air conditioning in his office turned up as high as possible, yet he seemed to be suffering from rather chronic hyperhidrosis, and was visibly sweating from his face.

"Dr Huang?" she began. He glared at her.

"What are you doing in my office? Who are you?" he demanded. She showed him her badge.

"Officer Kono Kalakaua, from the Five-O task force," she introduced herself. "I'm currently investigating a case and I would appreciate your help," she explained.

"I don't speak to anyone unless they make a prior arrangement with my receptionist. Go away," he ordered. Kono straightened her back, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and set her jaw firmly.

"I've spoken to your receptionist," she replied. "She knows I'm here. And as I'm investigating a murder, I'd appreciate it if you'd co-operate with me," she told him.

"Or what?" he inquired. Kono narrowed her eyes.

"Dr Huang, we can do this one of two ways. We can sit in your office and have a civilised discussion about the case I'm investigating, where your medical knowledge would be invaluable - or I can arrest you for obstructing my enquiries and we can do this in an interrogation room back at my headquarters. It's entirely your decision," she told him. He glared at her, and she met his stare without flinching.

"Sit down," he ordered. She complied with his instruction and sat opposite him in the chair he had indicated. "I don't like being told what to do in my own office, Officer Kalakaua," he told her. "You have ninety seconds to explain what you want to know. I will answer one question. After that, if you don't remove yourself instantly from my premises, I will report you to the Governor for harassment," he told her. She nodded.

"Thank you for being so reasonable," she replied, keeping her face straight. The sarcasm was instantly lost on Dr Huang. "I am investigating the murder of a young woman from New Jersey who was found in an apartment in Hawaii," she began, searching his face for any change in expression. He remained calm. "She had been given a lethal overdose of thiopental," she explained. His lips twitched and he swallowed awkwardly, but Kono pretended that she hadn't noticed. "Your records show that you were struck off the medical register years ago, but before that, you were a consultant anaesthetist. What I would like to know, Dr Huang, is this - where would someone illegally obtain such high doses of thiopental?"

"I don't know," he replied, quickly.

"You don't know?" Kono repeated. "Would they be able to buy it from your company without an official licence?" she asked.

"I said I would answer one question. Please leave," he insisted, standing up and heading towards the door. "You have long outstayed your welcome here, and I must demand that you leave my building immediately," he told her, opening the door.

"That was quick," a voice began. Kono's face lit up when she saw Chin stood at the door, his arm still raised as he was just about to knock. "I thought I'd find you here," he explained. "Chin Ho Kelly, Five-O task force," he introduced himself to an astounded Dr Huang. "I believe my colleague has some questions for you."

Dr Huang stared at Chin in disbelief. For a few moments he turned from Chin to Kono and back again, weighing up all possible courses of action at his disposal. Eventually, he made a decision - one which neither Kono nor Chin were expecting. He shoved Chin aside with all his might, sending him crashing to the floor, and promptly bolted along the corridor, as fast as his little legs could carry him. Chin quickly recovered and set off after him. Kono ran out of the side door to the office, hoping to cut Huang's escape route that way.

It wasn't much of a chase. Dr Huang could barely remain upright on the highly polished floor and was easily knocked over as Chin decided to unbalance him with a sliding tackle. Kono joined him as Huang lay sprawled on the floor, his arms and legs akimbo and his glasses hanging off one ear.

"I've always wanted to do that," Chin admitted, standing up and brushing himself down. Kono chuckled.

"I'm impressed," she told him. She knelt down to Dr Huang and cuffed him. "You know, Doctor, if you'd wanted to do this at our headquarters, you only needed to say so - I did give you the option," she reminded him with a grin.

Back at the Interrogation Room at Headquarters, Chin paced around Dr Huang so quickly that the doctor started to feel rather dizzy.

"Stop that," he insisted. Chin raised an eyebrow but continued pacing silently. "I told you to stop it!" he shouted. Chin paused and looked at the doctor.

"Are you going to talk?" he asked.

"Of course not!" the doctor replied. Chin shrugged and nodded his understanding.

"Then neither will I," he answered, starting to pace around the room again. Dr Huang was almost ready to tear his hair out in frustration.

"Will you stop that infernal pacing!" he demanded. Chin shook his head.

"You're giving me no reason to stop," he answered. "Now, if you were to tell me exactly who might know how much thiopental needed to be administered in order to kill someone, and where they were likely to get it from - I might stop pacing. But you're not going to do that, you've already told me. So I'm going to pace until I think of something better to ask you," he explained. Dr Huang shook his head and closed his eyes, but the vision of Chin walking past him every ten seconds or so was now imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

"It wasn't me!" the doctor finally protested. Chin paused briefly and considered his response.

"Not good enough," he decided, continuing to pace. A few moments later, Dr Huang let out a cry of anguish, unable to cope with the pacing any longer.

"A name! I can give you a name!" he pleaded. Chin stopped pacing and sat down opposite Dr Huang.

"Which name?" he demanded.

"One of the company directors. He asked me to provide him with the thiopental," he explained. Chin frowned.

"Did you ask why? Did you ask to see his licence to administer the drug?" he inquired. Dr Huang buried his face in his hands. "I see."

"You don't see. He's got something on me, and if I didn't comply, he was going to ruin me. He said if I did this small thing for him, we were even, and that he wouldn't ask me for anything else," he answered.

"What does he have on you?" Chin asked. Dr Huang hesitated for a moment before answering.

"When I was training in Medical School, I spent a year in New Jersey working with a Medical Examiner before I decided I was going to specialise in anaesthesia," he began. "I... did something that I'm not proud of. My family were poor, and I was working two jobs just to pay my tuition fees," he told him. Chin frowned.

"What did you do?" he asked, almost unsure whether he wanted to know the answer or not.

"I... forged a death certificate," he admitted, letting out a heavy sigh as the weight of his secret finally fell from his shoulders. Chin frowned.

"How... why... let's focus on the why. Why did you do that?" he asked. Dr Huang shrugged.

"I was offered a hundred thousand dollars," he replied. "The people who asked me to do it - they're not the sort of people you say 'no' to," he explained. "Ever since then, I've not been able to shake them off. They're always there. I'm grateful to them - they started me up in my own business after... the incident at the hospital," he trailed off, visibly cringing at the memory.

"After you tried to rape a heavily sedated woman?" Chin asked, bluntly. Dr Huang glared at him.

"Yes," he answered. "I'm not proud of what I did. But I wouldn't kill anyone. I'm a doctor, my job is to save lives, not end them."

"You just gave someone the means to do it, that's all," Chin realised. Dr Huang buried his face in his hands again and nodded. "Dr Huang?" he began. The doctor looked up at him. "What was the name you forged onto the death certificate?"

The doctor sighed. He knew that if he gave Chin the information, his life would be in untold danger - but at that moment, he didn't see that he had any choice. He wasn't a stupid man. He knew that the department could tear into every minute detail of his life and would find out anyway. The least he could do was to make it easier for himself in the hope of securing a shorter prison sentence.

"Francesco Cantaldo," he replied. Chin's eyes widened.

"Francesco Cantaldo isn't dead?" he asked. Dr Huang shook his head.

"No. He's alive and well... and he's in Hawaii," he replied.


	8. Chapter Seven

_**A/N: **Sorry about the delay in updating, I've had dodgy internet access. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate and I promise I'll write to you all in the next day or two!_

**Chapter Seven**

Of course, Danny had to arrange for his own backup when he finally arrived in Denver. He shook his head as he finished the call with the local police department.

"I swear that boy has some sort of mental block over backup," he mumbled to himself.

He threw his phone carelessly onto the bed in his motel room and stretched. He understood that the modern passenger aeroplane was a fantastic invention, that they made travel between all fifty American states much more accessible - and that without one he would have found moving five thousand miles from New Jersey to Hawaii in order to be with his daughter a prohibitively troublesome exercise. He just wished that someone would design the seating so as to avoid passengers elbowing a complete stranger every time they moved in an attempt to regain feeling in a dead butt cheek. At least he didn't have any complaints about the leg room.

An officer from the local department had been instructed to collect Danny from his motel and to take him directly to the safe house within fifteen minutes of his phone call. This proved to be just long enough for Danny to change his tie and pour as much instant coffee down his neck as he could feasibly manage. He'd just lost three hours on the flight and he didn't have time for the inevitable jet lag to slow his responses down.

The car ride with the officer who collected him was awkward, and largely silent. Danny attempted to make polite conversation, with barely any success.

"So... you... get much trouble from the Mafia in this neck of the woods?" he began, attempting to sound casual - but not too sure that he was really asking a particularly casual question.

"Nope," the officer said. He didn't offer any more information. Danny nodded and shifted uncomfortably as silence descended upon the car again.

"You... er... say, what's your name again?" Danny asked.

"Officer Livesey," he replied, brusquely. "Badge Number Three Four Nine Two. Sir," he added. Danny breathed out slowly.

"Oh... kay..." he answered, cautiously. "You... got a first name?" he inquired. _'This guy makes Steve look like friggin' Leno!'_ he thought, completely bemused.

"John," came the quick reply. Danny nodded again, feeling more awkward by the moment.

"I'm Danny," he offered, lamely. John shot him a look. "Uh... Williams. Danny Williams," he stammered, not sure why he felt so guilty for speaking.

"It helps if I have silence while I'm driving. Sir," John told him. Danny couldn't decide if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"Is it far to the safe house?" he finally asked, just above a whisper, half afraid that Officer Livesey would pointedly 'sir' him again, or shout at him for disturbing the silence.

"About a half mile," Livesey replied. Danny sighed with relief. "Sir."

"Please! Please, Johnny, don't... you don't need to call me 'sir'. My name's Danny," he told him.

"My name isn't Johnny, sir," Officer Livesey protested. "It's John. Or, if you prefer, Officer Livesey." Danny buried his face in his hands.

"Officer, I don't know if you're aware of the situation here, but let me explain. My daughter may, at this moment, be in untold danger from a mob leader based in New Jersey. Now, I'm unaware of your own family situation, but one thing you should know about me is this, okay? My daughter is my life. I moved five thousand miles to be with her after her mother remarried. She is the reason I get up in the morning, she's the reason that I smile, and she's the thing that keeps me breathing. If she hurts, I hurt - and then, if the situation demands it, I will hurt whoever is hurting her. All right? I am a father first of all, and then I am a cop. At the moment I think it would be within reason to say I'm feeling a little tense about whatever danger my daughter may be in right now. So, if you could possibly drop the 'sirs' and remember that I'm on the same side as you are, that would be great. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm your colleague, I'm not your enemy," he told him. John looked at him.

"Will you understand that I also have a job to do? That job involves getting you to the safe house with minimum disruption. I have a daughter too, sir - and if she were in danger, I wouldn't send her to another state and let another police force do my job for me," he responded. Before Danny could lean across and punch him for daring to cast aspersions on his devotion to Grace, Officer Livesey pulled up to an unremarkable-looking house. "We're here," he added, simply.

Danny, delighted to be able to get out of the car at long last, hopped out of the car and raced up the steps toward the house. "Grace?" he yelled. There was no answer. "Grace?" he called again. "Rachel?"

Silence.

He turned to Officer Livesey, confused. "Do you think they went to the store?" he asked, hopefully. Officer Livesey hesitated for a moment before replying.

"Not without a car. The nearest store is three miles away," he answered. Danny breathed in slowly, and exhaled even more slowly, trying to quell the panic that was rising inside him.

"Where could they be?" he asked, his voice quavering with restraint. He finally knocked on the door, although deep down he knew there would be no answer. When he tried the door handle, he wasn't remotely surprised to discover that the door was unlocked. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes heavenward.

"If you're there, please let Grace be safe," he whispered, before going inside.

The house was completely ransacked. Sofas were overturned. Chairs were broken. Various soft furnishings were strewn around the living room, smashed vases, picture frames hanging at wacky angles on the walls... and then, Danny saw the one thing he had hoped he wouldn't find.

He crouched down, examined it closely, closed his eyes, let out a sigh and called out, "I got blood!"

Officer John Livesey seemed to be instantly possessed by another being entirely. Gone was the cold, judgmental driver who needed silence in order to navigate the roads. Within two steps he'd made his way over to Danny and clapped his shoulder reassuringly.

"We'll get them back, sir," he promised, then called his department. "Officer Livesey at the safe house on 362 Fielden Street. Request backup and forensic teams - two missing persons, a woman and a small child," at this point he broke off his report and hissed over to Danny, "Have you got a description?"

"Uh, yeah, Rachel Edwards - she's almost thirty, British, long brown hair, brown eyes, about five-seven, maybe five-eight, about a hundred and ten pounds," he told him. "Grace Williams is about four-five, she's eight years old, has long brown hair, probably in two pony tails; y'know, like, one either side, green eyes - uhm, she'll be with Rachel. I hope she's with Rachel," he paused and gulped, trying to think of anything else that might help.

"That's great," John told him, smiling encouragingly at him. Danny knew that smile. He'd given the exact same smile to dozens of people when he was promising them a happy ending that he wasn't sure he could provide.

Danny looked blankly out of the window and saw something that grabbed his attention.

"There's a wood back there," he announced, heading towards the patio doors, which were open. He looked up at John. "You stay here, wait for backup. I'm just going to check it out. The doors are open, Rachel and Grace may have headed out there," he suggested. John looked warily at him.

"If Rachel and Grace are out there - who knows who'll be following them?" he pointed out. Danny narrowed his eyes and withdrew his gun.

"I'll find them," he promised. "Stay here," he ordered. John gulped.

"Yes sir," he agreed as he watched Danny leave through the patio doors.

Rachel had decided it would be easier to carry Grace than to expect her little eight-year-old legs to keep up with her. She couldn't remember how long they had been running for, but she was exhausted. She'd tried to maintain a regular breathing pattern so that the men in pursuit of them wouldn't hear her.

Finally, exhausted, she launched herself bodily into a thicket, twisting around so that Grace fell on top of her.

"Oof!" she moaned, then her eyes widened in panic, hoping she hadn't made too much noise.

"I'm scared," Grace whispered. Rachel nodded.

"So am I," she whispered back.

"I wish Danno were here," she said. Rachel gulped before answering.

"Me too," she agreed. Rachel didn't know why, but all she could think of at that moment was Danny. As far as she knew, he was still in prison, the investigation into Anna Stephenson's murder still ongoing. She hoped he was all right. She thought of him in prison, how he would cope surrounded by some of the people he'd had a hand in putting behind bars.

"We know you're out there!" a male voice called. Rachel and Grace held their breath and closed their eyes, both secretly hoping the action would render them invisible. Rachel suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, and partly debated whether crouching under a bush in the middle of a wood was a good enough hiding place from an unknown man with a gun, intent on causing her and her daughter harm. "You're just tiring yourself out! We'll find you in the end! Nobody knows you're here! No help's coming!" the man yelled, getting closer and closer to them.

Rachel could see him now. He was walking towards the bush they were hiding under, but hadn't seen them. His head turned at every slight noise. She waited, hardly daring to breathe, as she waited for him to get closer. Eventually, he stood right next to the bush and paused. Rachel reached a hand out and grabbed his left leg, which was the one furthest away from her, and pulled it towards her. He crashed to the floor, caught completely unaware by Rachel's move, and his gun skidded a few feet away from him. Rachel recovered far more quickly than he did, raced out from her hiding place and grabbed the gun. Her shaking hands pointed it in his direction.

"You're not going to fire," he told her. Her entire body shook with adrenaline.

"I'm not?" she asked. He shook his head.

"You wouldn't want your daughter to live with the image of you shooting a man right in front of her," he reasoned. Rachel paused. He was right.

The man saw her pause and consider his response, and before Rachel had time to even think of an answer, he leaped up and overpowered her. He wrestled the gun from her hands and pushed her to the floor, pointing the gun at her.

"You know your problem? You flinched," he told her, aiming at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the gunshot.

"I don't think so, my friend," a voice began, a low and menacing tone, barely louder than a whisper. The man was suddenly aware of the fact that a gun was thrust into his neck. "Drop it. I don't want your arguments, I don't want your reasons why. Drop the gun." The man hesitated. "I'm the one with a loaded gun at your neck. You want to listen to me. I will not warn you again. My name is Detective Danny Williams, I'm from the Hawaii Five-O task force, and if you don't put down the gun you're aiming at the mother of my child, I will blow your head off. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, calmly.

The gunman wordlessly complied with Danny's instructions and tossed the gun aside, then raised his hands in defeat.

"You know your problem?" Danny asked, as he deftly cuffed the man. His question was met with expected and sullen silence. "You started shouting your mouth off like you were in some sort of Western movie. That isn't the way you track a target, yelling threats all over the place. You must be some kinda nut, going off with a gun and shouting threats all over this woodland area! All those protected species, what if you hit one of them?" he asked. "That's a four year sentence and a ban on keeping animals as pets for life!"

Rachel stared at him, absolutely astounded.

"Why aren't you in jail?" she suddenly asked. He stared back at her.

"I come all this way, I cross three time zones, I save your life and all you want to know is why I'm not in jail?" he asked. She nodded. "You were right. I didn't do it," he answered with a smile. She couldn't help but grin back at him.

"Sir?" Officer Livesey called, dashing over to him. "We got the other guys, we're taking them to the station now. Shall I take this one?" he asked. Danny nodded.

"Yeah. Book 'im, Johnno," he answered, his face remaining completely straight. John gave him a perplexed look and obediently led the gunman away.

Danny was then tackled to the ground by a hug from Grace, who had definitely never been so pleased to see him.

"Are you a sight for sore eyes!" he declared, hugging her tightly.

"I thought you were away?" she told him, hugging him with all her might. He pulled away and looked at her.

"Where else would I be when you're in trouble?" he asked. She beamed and hugged him so tightly he found it difficult to breathe. "You're gonna have to let go, Gracie," he spluttered, his face turning red. "Can't breathe!" he gasped. She instantly loosened her grip and giggled.

Rachel walked towards them. Danny gave her a smile, and without even waiting for an invitation, she grabbed hold of him and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered. He wordlessly held her close to him, for several moments too long, before pulling away.

"You're welcome," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

At the Five-O Headquarters, a tall figure walked into Steve McGarrett's office and stood over his desk. Steve looked up and frowned.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Are you Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarret?" he asked. Steve nodded.

"Now you have the advantage over me," he pointed out. The man smiled at him.

"I've come to give you some information regarding the murder case you're currently investigating regarding an Anna Stephenson," he told him. Steve's eyebrows shot up.

"You have?" he asked. The man nodded.

"I imagine my name has been brought up once or twice already in your investigation. I'm Joe Cantaldo," he introduced himself.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight  
**  
Steve could have sworn that the Imperial March from Star Wars began playing in his head when Joe Cantaldo introduced himself.

"You're our number one suspect and you just walk in here like it's the most natural thing to do, then make out like you have some information about the case? Do you think our team is that stupid? Seriously?" Steve asked.

"I had no hand in Anna Stephenson's murder. But I know who did, and that's why I need your help," Mr Cantaldo said, not waiting for an invitation to sit down, but sitting opposite Steve's desk.

"You need our help? That's really not how it works, Joe!" Steve pointed out. Mr Cantaldo smiled at him.

"If you have forensic evidence to prove that I. personally, am implicitly involved in Anna Stephenson's murder - then by all means, arrest me," Mr Cantaldo replied, coolly. Steve glared at him for a full ten seconds before finally looking away. "I see. So, technically, I'm just a concerned member of the public with some information that I believe may be of use to your team in solving the murder."

"You set Danny Williams up for murder one," Steve replied. "You're not walking away from this."

"Then, my dear boy, prove that I did it," Mr Cantaldo answered, meeting Steve's glare unflinchingly. "The way I see it, you can waste time berating me for doing something that you can't prove I did, or you can listen to me for five minutes and then go and catch the man who really did set your partner up," he reasoned.

Steve blinked. Did everyone from New Jersey use at least thirty words per sentence - or was it just Danny and Joe Cantaldo?

"Fine. What have you got?" he asked.

"My cousin. Frankie Cantaldo," Mr Cantaldo replied. Steve looked at him blankly. "You don't know? Very well. Frankie is alive. He came to me ten years ago, asking a favour," he explained.

"What sort of favour?" Steve asked. Mr Cantaldo considered his question for a moment.

"I'm choosing not to have my lawyer present for one reason only, Commander McGarrett," he began. "Frankie is making a mockery of the name Guiseppe Cantaldo in New Jersey, in Hawaii, in any of the other forty-eight states you care to name. I cannot have him making Joe Cantaldo look like a fool. I am asking for your help to get him out of my way before I'm forced to take action myself."

"What action would that be?" Steve asked, interested. Mr Cantaldo chuckled.

"Who am I? Al Pacino?" he joked, but Steve saw no mirthful gleam behind his eyes. "It was only made clear to me a short time ago that Frankie had been using my name for certain... acts of vengeance. Particularly where your partner was concerned," he told him.

"Are you saying that you didn't send a man over to Detective Williams' apartment, to threaten his then wife with a gun ten years ago, after your nephew was shot?" Steve asked. Mr Cantaldo shook his head.

"Not my style, Commander. Tony and I had never been that close. The kid stole a car while there was an investigation going on, then he initiates a shoot-out with two New Jersey cops. He was asking for trouble," he answered. "Tony was an idiot. Like his father. He got himself shot. Detective Williams has to live with a boy's life on his conscience. That's enough punishment for any man. But then, how could Frankie send a message by himself without completely ruining his cover story? He felt he had no option but to put his grief under my name."

"Why did Frankie need to take such drastic action in the first place?" Steve asked.

"Like I say. He's an idiot. He's not even a real Cantaldo. His mother is a Cantaldo. His name is Carluccio," he explained. "He messed with the wrong family. Some very important men wanted to see him dead. Going into hiding wasn't enough. He needed to disappear completely. So he came to me, asked me for help. He's family, I had no choice. I don't have the most expansive moral code, Commander, but I know what family means," he told him, significantly. "I would never threaten a man by attacking his wife. I told you, that's not my style. It's a cowardly act. Frankie has pulled too many of those stunts over the last ten years. He needs to be stopped."

"So, why not just hand him over to the family who wanted to see him dead? Let them have him?" Steve asked. Mr Cantaldo shook his head.

"That would place me in a very difficult position. How would I explain to them that I had only just discovered my cousin wasn't dead? How would I explain that I had withheld some very significant facts from the family?" he asked.

"So you want us to clean up your mess and let you walk away from this?" Steve realised. Mr Cantaldo grinned.

"You're a smart young man, Commander," he answered. "I've given you a name. I've willingly co-operated with you in your investigation, and I came to you of my own volition. Surely that's worth something?" he suggested. Steve smiled back at him.

"Tell me something, Mr Cantaldo. Did you send a lawyer to visit my partner in prison?" he asked. Mr Cantaldo stared at him, blankly.

"Why would I offer legal aid to your partner?" he asked, confused.

"Let me rephrase my question. Did you send somebody in the guise of a lawyer to physically assault my partner in his prison cell, and send three more men to Denver in an attempt to kill my partner's ex-wife and eight-year-old daughter?" Steve asked. Mr Cantaldo's eyes widened.

"I don't know how to answer you, Commander. This is a very serious accusation," he began.

"Did you do it?" Steve asked.

"Are you asking me if I would arrange for something as amateurish, clumsy and downright idiotic as that? No! Of course I didn't! I should be insulted at your insinuation!" he ranted, his cool demeanour now officially lost. "I have my pride. I have my reputation. I have my name. You must know, Commander McGarrett, the value of a man's name!"

"I do, sir. I know the value of my friend's name. It's a name that I've spent the last three days clearing," Steve answered.

"Then you will understand why I am so determined to protect mine," Mr Cantaldo answered, simply. Steve nodded.

"Where do we find Frankie?" he asked. Mr Cantaldo shook his head.

"Francesco has several business associates throughout Hawaii. I suggest you speak to one of them," he answered, standing up.

"You're not leaving?" Steve began. Mr Cantaldo looked at him, mildly amused.

"I had no idea you would be so keen to wish to continue your association with me, Commander. I'm flattered. Unfortunately, I have done my civic duty, and I have other business matters to attend to. I think, if you wish to speak to me again regarding your investigation - it would be prudent for me to have my lawyer present," he told him. "Noah Bernstein - he has an office in Hawaii. Here's his card," he explained, handing a business card to Steve.

"Getting out while you're still legally entitled to?" Steve asked. Mr Cantaldo grinned and nodded.

"I know enough about your team, Commander McGarrett, to know that I would be a fool to give you more than that," he replied, turning and walking away.

Steve shook his head. He would never agree with Cantaldo's lifestyle or motives, but he had to admire his style.

Kono walked into his office and knocked on the open door.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Joe Cantaldo," he answered. Her eyes widened.

"You let him go? Just like that?" she asked. He nodded.

"He didn't do it," he replied. She looked at him, sceptically.

"How do you know? Because he told you?" she asked. "That's not the best reason to let someone go," she pointed out.

"He's right. We have no evidence linking this to him. Everything points to Frankie. Frankie's been using Joe's name for things like this for the last ten years. Joe's pissed off and wants the guy out of his hair," Steve told her.

"We're doing Joe's dirty work for him?" she guessed.

"I like to think that we're getting the guy who framed Danny," he corrected her. "Where's Huang?" he asked.

"In a holding cell. Chin's just finished questioning him," she replied. Right on cue, Chin walked back into the office.

"Please tell me that Milton Huang gave you more than a 'no comment'?" Steve pleaded. Chin grinned at him.

"He sang like a palila," he replied. "You won't believe this, but Frankie Cantaldo-"

"Is alive and well?" Steve asked. Chin looked stunned. "I've just had his cousin, Joe, in the office," he explained.

"And you let him go?" Chin asked, horrified. Steve shrugged.

"What could I hold him on?" he asked. "There's no evidence against him." Chin sighed.

"You could have waited for five minutes before I came back to tell you what I'd learned from Milton Huang," he answered, wearily, sitting heavily on top of Steve's desk. Steve frowned.

"What? What did he tell you?" he asked.

"Frankie set the whole thing up. He used Joe's name to hire the guys to attack Danny in his cell and to find Grace and Rachel. He got Huang to provide the barbiturate. But he wasn't in it alone," he began. Steve and Kono frowned. Chin looked at Steve. "Anna Stephenson was dating Filipe Carnavole for eighteen months," he told him. Steve's brow furrowed further.

"Who?"

"Joe Cantaldo's estranged son. He wanted nothing to do with his father from the age of fifteen, when he found out about the seamier side of Cantaldo's business dealings," he explained. "Anna Stephenson had no idea who Filipe was - but Joe knew exactly who she was, and that was the problem."

"She was killed to keep Frankie's faked death a secret, in case she got too close to the family," Kono realised. Chin nodded.

"According to Huang, Filipe still doesn't know where Anna is. He reported her missing himself, and is still waiting by the phone," he answered. Steve shook his head.

"Poor kid," he commented. "Can we prove Joe's involvement?" he asked. Kono and Chin shook their heads in response, and Steve sighed in despair.

"Yes," a voice began. All three agents looked towards the door and were amazed to see Max stood in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Max?" Steve asked, bemused.

"I found a thumbprint on the back of the victim's hand," he began, excitedly, though obviously out of breath after having climbed the stairs.

"No, I mean... what are you doing here?" Steve asked. "You never leave your office!" he pointed out. Max nodded.

"I don't trust phones, and I have a meeting with the Governor," he explained.

An awkward pause ensued, in which Steve, Chin and Kono expected Max to continue with his news on the thumbprint, and Max expected Steve, Chin or Kono to indicate for him to continue with said news.

"Max?" Steve prompted, eventually. Max had lost concentration by this point and had to hurriedly shake his head in an attempt to jog his memory.

"Oh! Yes! There was some very mild bruising on the victim's hand - I almost missed it completely. It appears that the victim's fingers had been bent, like this," he broke off, bending his fingers into a crooked position. Kono mimicked the positioning of his fingers, then lightly dragged her fingernails across her forearm.

"They made her scratch the back of Danny's neck!" she realised. "That's how they got his skin under her fingernails!" Max beamed at her.

"That's the conclusion I came to. I managed to get a print from her skin, and then ran it through the system. Do you know whose name came up?" he asked.

"Please say Joe Cantaldo!" Steve begged. Max shook his head.

"No," he replied. The agents' faces fell simultaneously. Max studied their faces and then broke out into a giggle. "I was joking!" he confessed. Chin and Steve exchanged a glance of disbelief. "The print is Joe Cantaldo's!" he declared.

"Max, you're a genius!" Steve told him. Max nodded and blushed lightly. "I could kiss you on the mouth!" Max looked horrified.

"That won't be necessary!" he protested, blushing furiously. He made his mumbled excuses before leaving the office hurriedly. Steve fished into his pocket, pulled out the business card that Cantaldo had given to him and grinned to himself.

Joe Cantaldo opened the door to Noah Bernstein's office.

"I did it," he declared, closing the door behind him before looking up at the desk. He was horrified to see Steve, Chin and Kono sat on Noah's desk. "Where's Noah?" he stammered.

"Getting a coffee," Steve replied, carelessly. "You didn't ask what we were doing here," he pointed out.

"I... hadn't got to that part yet," Cantaldo answered, carefully.

"You told me to come back when I had solid forensic evidence to link you to Anna's murder, Joe. So. Here I am," Steve explained. Joe frowned. "You left your fingerprints on the victim's body. That's amateurish," he chided him.

"Clumsy," Kono agreed.

"Downright idiotic," Chin piped up.

"Did you rehearse that on the way over?" Cantaldo asked, raising an eyebrow coolly. Kono stifled a giggle. Steve shook his head, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Not at all, we're just professional," Chin told him.

"Co-ordinated," Kono added.

"And feeling just a little bit smug right now," Steve agreed, unable to contain the accompanying smirk.


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"So... what time shall I pick Grace up on Friday?"

Rachel and Danny's eyes locked as he asked the question. Both knew what he was really saying, no matter how much they tried to ignore it. _"I still love you. I don't see why we're doing this. I know you love me too." _

They both knew why, but somehow that didn't make it any easier. How could Rachel possibly explain that, during their marriage, a part of her had died a little each morning, the moment Danny had left for work? That she was sick of spending each day just praying that he'd come home safely – or that he'd come home at all? Love wasn't the issue. It just wasn't enough any more. It hadn't been enough for a long time.

They were still in Honolulu airport, their flight having only touched down thirty minutes earlier, and Rachel was waiting for Stan's flight to come in. Danny had offered to wait with her. Grace had fallen asleep on the plane, and she was now curled up on Danny's lap, still fast asleep. Being chased by gunmen must have really taken it out of her, so Danny didn't want to disturb her. He spent little enough time with Grace as it was, he didn't want to give up one moment with her unnecessarily.

"You can pick her up from school if you like," she replied with a smile. He nodded.

"Sure. Is she still vegetarian this week, or-?" he asked, still mildly amused by Grace's announcement the previous week that eating animals was cruel and she wasn't going to do it any more. Rachel chuckled.

"I enticed her to give up her principles in favour of a hot dog," she answered with a wry smile.

"You know what you are? You are a very bad influence, okay?" he said, his tone deadly serious but his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Leading my daughter astray like this! Do you know how far I had to drive to get her pizza with vegetarian cheese on it? Hot dogs! What's next, a drive-thru coronary?"

"This weekend, she can have whatever she likes. She was so brave out there. She didn't cry once," Rachel said, proudly.

"She wasn't the only brave one. Look at you! You kicked some serious tushie out there! Fighting a gunman bare-handed like that - I'm not ashamed to say it, I'm proud of you!" he said, sincerely. She would never admit it, but Danny could see that she'd blushed.

"Well... it was for Grace. If ever she's in danger, it's like the red mist descends, right?" she pointed out. He let out a breath of laughter and nodded in agreement. "Besides, neither of us would be here now if it hadn't been for you. Thank you, Danny." He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Hey, no problem. It's my job, right?" he reasoned. She smiled softly at him and nodded.

"I suppose it is."

"Hey! Danny!" a voice called, breaking the palpable tension that had built between the two of them. Danny turned his head in the direction of the shout and saw Steve running towards him.

"Steven. Perfect timing, as usual," he said in a mumbled voice that only Rachel could hear, his smile comically forced to compound his sarcasm. Rachel giggled as Steve skidded to a halt in front of them. "Steve, can you keep it down, please? Grace has had a tough day, she's battled gunmen and taken them down better than you would've. She needs her rest!" he protested. Steve raised his eyebrows.

"She'll be a good partner for Kono in a few years," he commented. Danny nodded, proudly, but Rachel's face fell.

"One member of Grace's family risking his life every day is enough, thank you," she replied, curtly. Danny visibly winced and looked at Steve. Steve raised his hands in protest.

"I'm sure she'd rather be a beautician anyway," he backtracked. Rachel smiled gratefully at him. "I'm serious, she's pretty good already. Did Danny tell you about the pedicure she gave me a few weeks ago?" he asked. Rachel and Danny both threw their heads back and roared with laughter, waking Grace up.

"What's going on?" she asked, sleepily, snuggling into her father's chest.

"Grace? Do you have something to tell me about Uncle Steve's feet?" Rachel asked, giggling. Danny couldn't stop shaking with silent laughter. Grace blushed and started laughing too.

"It took an hour soaking my feet in acetone to get those sticker things off!" Steve lamented, now purely for comedy value. Tears of laughter rolled down Danny's face, and Rachel was bent double, laughing hysterically.

"What's the joke?" a voice asked. Rachel looked up and saw Stan, smiling amiably at the scene before him. She jumped up and walked over to him.

"Oh, we were just talking about something Grace did the other week. I'll tell you about it later," she promised. "Grace, come on, we've got to go now. Say goodbye to your father and Uncle Steve," she instructed. Danny and Grace both looked up at Rachel, dejectedly. "You'll see each other again on Friday," she promised, suddenly feeling like the most cruel person in the world for turning down two pairs of puppy dog eyes simultaneously. They sighed and turned to each other.

"Thanks for rescuing us, Danno," Grace began. Danny wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"Well, your mom did a great job of holding them off. So don't you mess with her, she's tougher than she looks, okay?" he told her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Grace grinned and nodded her understanding. "C'mere," he added, hugging her again, and hating their goodbyes more and more each time they happened. "I love you, Monkey."

"Love you too, Danno," she answered, squeezing him as tightly as her skinny little arms could manage before finally letting go and skipping over to her mother and stepfather. Rachel smiled gratefully at him and mouthed a 'thank you'. Danny nodded and a smile flickered faintly across his face in return.

"Love you more," he whispered. He turned away sharply, knowing that Rachel would be leaning in to greet her husband with a kiss, and not wanting the extra crack that would appear in his heart if he had to see it.

Steve and Danny both waved the Edwards-Williams family away before turning to look at each other.

"You got him?" Danny asked. Steve nodded.

"Both of 'em. Joe and Frankie," he replied. Danny's eyes widened. "I know, right? Turns out Frankie isn't dead after all," Steve explained.

"He's not dead?"

"If he is, he's the first corpse I've ever gotten a confession from."

"No wonder we couldn't solve his murder case," Danny said. "You know you're gonna have to tell me everything in intricate detail just so I get this whole shebang straight in my head."

"Shebang?"

"Don't distract me. Intricate detail, McGarrett!"

"Fine, fine, I'll give you a blow-by-blow account!" Steve said. He paused for a moment. "So where to now?"

"Where to? Well, my daughter's gone back to another man's home with my ex-wife, and I'm not going to see her again until Friday. I've not slept in twenty-four hours, travelling to Colorado and back and apprehending a guy who was pointing a gun at Rachel's face at point blank range. Where do you think I wanna go right now? Hmm?" he asked. Steve shook his head.

"You want to go for a run?" he suggested. Danny's eyes narrowed as he shook his head in despair.

"No, I don't want to go for a goddam run, frickin' Action Man!" he retorted. "I want to go to the nearest bar and do some serious yet hopefully temporary damage to my liver," he told him. Steve grinned and clapped him on the back.

"I'll drink to that!" he agreed.

**THE END**


End file.
